amanda landry

“What are you doing? We can’t! We don’t have time!” I ignored her and pushed her panties over her hips. Despite her protests, Carol kicked off her wet panties as they dropped to the floor and spread her legs, bending forward. “Are you crazy?” she whispered. “Someone is going…oh!” Carol gasped as my cock thrusted deep inside her. “Really Jim we can’t…” Yet her hips gently fucked my dick, sliding her pussy along my shaft. I pinned her tighter against the mirror. I held her arms over her head as I violently slammed my cock into her pussy.

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

Mrs. B. was definitely given to buyer’s remorse. Each time she had sex with me, she would act really distant and embarrassed for awhile, trying to pretend nothing had happened, and trying to avoid being around me. I managed once to be alone in the room with her and I came up behind her and lifted her dress and squeezed her ass. She looked at me with a sad smile (and checked out the bulge in my pants),